Lost
by Serinidia
Summary: PointBlank Spoilers!: Neal stays out on the roof of June's contemplating the loss of his friends when one supposedly dead gives him a visit. But is it really Mozzie or just wishful thinking?
1. Neal's POV

_**Author's Note: This is set right after Point Blank. Just pretend it was winter time when the eppy took place. This has major emotional whumpage in it so be warned. I don't own White Collar, I simply enjoy messing with the characters. **_

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The droplet of water took its time as it fell to the ground. Others of its kind were already gathered below and it was now time to join them. There was a small ripple as it splashed into the small puddle of water and was soon followed by another.

The emotionless sky line of New York city watched over the rooftop and the young man on it. Sleet had gathered on the man's still body and soaked the figure making it shudder in the cold.

If only the sleet would numb the pain in the young man's heart then everything would be ok again. If that pain was gone that would mean that he hadn't just caused the shooting of his best friend.

Some best friend he was.

First he got Kate killed and now Mozzie.

Who was next?

Peter, El, June, Diana, Alex, or Jones?

Which one?

Or would it be himself?

Neal Caffrey hoped it would be himself. He wouldn't be able to go through another death. Couldn't deal with the pain death caused.

He knew it was slightly selfish of him but he only wanted it to end.

Neal wasn't suicidal, never had been and never would be. Instead he was just a young man who'd had his heart ripped to shreds one too many times.

Every time he walked into his room at June's he expected Mozzie to be sitting on the couch drinking his wine and talking about how his day had been.

But Mozzie wasn't there.

Would never be there again.

The little guy wouldn't be waiting for him somewhere outside the FBI building or at one of the numerous shops where Neal went.

And the realization was breaking him into pieces. Pieces that he would never be able to get back again. Ever.

Mozzie had always teased Neal saying that one day he would be the death of him.

And Mozz had been correct. He was dead and it was Neal's fault.

The ex-con artist wanted to blame Fowler for it but he knew that wasn't true. It had been Neal who had been looking for revenge not Fowler and certainly not Mozzie.

Tears continued to leak their way down his face and the daylight hours waned and turned to the night. The figure stayed on the roof, sometimes smiling sadly, other times scowling.

The memories flashed across Neal and he wished they wouldn't. He didn't want to remember all the things that he and Mozzie had been through. At least not right now.

Later, but not now.

The sound of the door- leading back inside- shook him out of his reverie and he glanced up slowly.

"Neal?"

"Mozz?" Neal asked confused. _Mozz, you're dead so_… the felon tried to figure out how this was happening.

A few seconds later, Mozzie was leaning over Neal, checking him worriedly.

"Thought you were dead."

"No Neal, I'm not dead." The voice was reassuring and Neal studied the familiar face before him.

"Mozz I really screwed up this time." Neal confessed to his friend, voice heartbroken. "Peter'll probably toss me back in the slammer this time. I don't blame him though, he probably sees me as a backstabbing son of a b'." The tears flowed down his face even more heavily than before and he sobbed leaning back against the wall.

Mozzie hadn't been the only friend that he had lost today. (When he thought Mozz was dead that is) but he had lost all of them.

He had no friends left.

No one to care about what happened to him, of he was ok or not.

No one to miss him when he eventually died.

There was no one left…

He felt Mozzie's hands shaking him, telling him to keep talking, to stay awake and not to sleep.

Neal mumbled something incoherently as he lay down on his side. Mozzie was shaking him in earnest now, calling his name loudly.

The young criminal ignored the incessant voice and let his eyes drift shut. A few minutes later he was roused again and he gave a startled cry of alarm when he saw Peter _right there_. He hadn't been expecting that in the slightest.

But where was Mozzie?

He had been here not to long ago.

Neal scanned the rest of the roof but it was empty and only two sets of footprints were visible. The sleet had turned to snow and the world looked unreal.

"Where's Mozzie?"

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_**Author's Note: This will be a two-shot and I'm pretty sure you guys can guess who's perspective the next chapter will be… **_

_**Have ya'll ever wondered if Matt Bomer and Tim DeKay ever skimmed through these fan-fics? I wonder what their reactions would be to some of them… **_

_**But did you guys like it? Won't update unless I know that it's worth it =)**_


	2. Peter's POV

_**Author's Note: Thank you to those of you that reviewed! Here is Peter's poverty. Enjoy!**_

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Pain was ripping through the man in the car in front of a house. His forehead rested against the steering wheel as sleet started to come down around the vehicle. There were some things that he couldn't understand, didn't want to know like how his best friend had lied to and manipulated him today.

_Damn you Kate. Why do you have to keep screwing him up? You're dead so cowboy up and leave us alone_. The thought seethed with anger and Peter Burke balled his hand up into a fist, pounding on the dashboard in front of him.

He didn't know what to do, whether he should throw his (supposed) friend in jail or to keep working with him. Working _on _him…

Peter closed his eyes as an endless amount of thoughts poured across his mind like the Nile. He had never felt so hurt, so disposable, used and….betrayed.

Tears leaked out of eyes and the agent quickly swiped at them angrily. Diana had offered to come with him but he had told her that he would be fine. And he was glad he did.

Neal needed to learn his place in this… agreement (Peter no longer considered it a partnership) and he needed to learn it now.

As a friend he would have given the younger man some time to grieve but they weren't friends anymore. Friends didn't use each other.

Didn't hurt each other… not like this.

As a federal agent he had decided to treat Neal like the felon he was. Something that needed to be whipped back into shape. The felon should be grateful that Peter hadn't thrown his ass back in jail. He had considered it, but El had managed to convince him not to do it.

He could no longer see out the windshield, the sleet having covered it, making it impossible to drive.

With a sigh he headed into the house feeling somewhat uncertain. He didn't know why he felt that way but he did.

June greeted him at the door cheerfully, and guided him to the couch telling him that she would make some tea for him. He knew that she could tell his mood and was doing her best to help him. What she didn't know was why and he didn't have the heart to tell her.

"Are you here to see Neal, Peter? The poor kid could use some cheering up right now. He's been crying for a while now. He thinks I can't hear him but I can." Her voice was laced with concern and worry.

"Yeah, I'll go see him in a few." In other words, _I'll see him when I can get the guts to chain him to the apartment like a useless animal to a cage. To see him break even more. He does deserve it though, the confinement. Hell of a lot better than going to jail though. I need to quit thinking of him as a partner and a friend._

Peter swallowed thickly, fighting to hold back the emotions that were raging inside.

"_I trust you Peter._"

"_Stay out of this Peter!_"

Burke closed his eyes and pretended to sneeze to explain the watery quality they had taken on. Once in the sanctuary the bathroom provided, Peter let the tears start to cascade down his face again.

He sobbed and cursed Neal for making him act like this. For making him fall into the younger man's trap. For falling for his lies and his charm.

Peter stayed in their for as long as it took to get it all out of his system and then a little while longer so that he would look cold and collected when he went to see Neal.

He couldn't show and warmth or friendliness to the con artist.

Yes no longer _ex_-con artist but a _con artist_

Walking slowly, he mounted the stairs and paused when he reached Neal's door. Peter didn't bother to knock-Neal no longer deserved the privacy and respect that a knock resembled.

The younger man wasn't inside and Peter cursed. For a brief moment he forgot about the roof and a nagging suspicion telling him that Neal had run for it made itself known. He wouldn't put it past the younger man to run.

Not anymore. He would never cover the younger man's butt when he got into a ridiculous situation or screwed something up. Peter knew that he could throw Neal back into the slammer and get a different partner.

His eyes lit up when he remembered the roof and he made his way over to the doorway that led to the staircase and started walking up.

The shock of cold distracted Peter when he first opened the door. The icy wind stole his breathe away and he shivered, wanting to go back inside immediately. He gave the roof a brief glance over and he almost missed the shape of the con artist.

He would have if Neal hadn't moved slightly, causing some of the snow and sleet to slide off of his body. Peter inhaled sharply when he saw the pallor of the younger man's skin. _How long have you been out here_? Peter wondered as he strode over to the shivering form.

"Neal?" He hoped the kid could hear him.

"Mozz?"

That single question broke Peter's heart as he realized just how much Neal was hurting on the inside. Maybe he had misjudged the younger man earlier. He had been harsh, so very harsh in not allowing the younger man to come with him to the hospital.

Peter squatted down next to Neal and leaned over to check the younger man over, trying to do his best to make it seem like he was just checking to make sure a suspect was still breathing in order to be punished. _Don't treat him like nothing's wrong_, one voice told him while the other was uncertain and urging him to set things right.

The problem was that there was nothing that could be set right.

Neal jumped slightly when Peter pressed his fingers against his throat. "Thought you were dead." The other man's voice was so broken, so desperate to believe that Mozzie wasn't dead.

"No Neal, I'm not dead." Peter answered reassuringly. The blue eyes lit up with hope, happiness and wonderment. As if the kid had just woken from a horrible nightmare that he thought had really happened but in reality hadn't.

Peter looked away, blinking back the tears that the expression in those baby blues had brought back.

"Mozz, I really screwed up this time." There was an honest look in Neal's eyes and the kid sounded like he'd been crying for a very long time; his voice was hoarse, honest and exhaustedly sad. "Peter'll probably toss me back in the slammer this time. I don't blame him though, he probably sees me as a backstabbing son of a b'."

Peter inhaled sharply when he heard the amount of pain that entered the younger man's voice. It felt like Neal had punched him in the gut and he saw tears trickle down Neal's cheeks. _Oh Neal, how can you still affect me like this? I thought_…

That was when Peter realized that Neal knew how much he had screwed up, how he hadn't intended to hurt Peter like this, and how much he regretted his actions. The sob that wracked Neal's body snapped Peter out of his reverie and he looked up, eyes soft.

Just in time to see a look of despair and torment flash across the usually smiling face. That look didn't belong on Neal Caffrey. It just wasn't right.

Fear shot through Peter when he saw that Neal's eyes were fluttering shut and he reached over, grabbing a cold shoulder, shaking it. "Neal? Neal, I need you stay awake. Keep your eyes open. Neal?"

The thirty two year old shoved Peter's hands away with a flicker of annoyance and Peter's heart plummeted when he saw his… _friend_…lay down on his side. Neal's eyes flickered shut and Peter couldn't tell if he was breathing or not.

"Neal? Come on Neal, please. Wake up!" Peter begged as he shook his partner somewhat roughly. (The gentle shakes hadn't worked) "I'm sorry Neal, but it just hurt so much when you did that. But you weren't the only one that was wrong, I shouldn't have kept you away from Mozz when he was still at that hospital." Peter confessed as he continued in his efforts to rouse Neal.

"Please Neal."

The kid jerked suddenly, an obvious look of surprise flashing across his face, and he inhaled sharply.

Peter knew that the kid had just realized that Mozzie had never been on the roof top with him. That it had been the FBI agent he had betrayed.

The blue eyes were shining brightly now and Neal turned away, embarrassed. Peter reached down and pulled his partner to his feet. With Peter supporting Neal, the two made their way back inside.

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_**Author's Note: Did you like it? I tried to keep Peter in character and yet make it show the conflict he was dealing with at the moment. Leave me a review and I'll be a very happy camper (or so to speak) =)**_


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